The Old Enemy
by Lollipop456
Summary: AU. WARNING: Some OOCness, because I've not finished the book. Pip and Estella are married and have a child; but an old enemy from their past returns, with intents of disrupting their happiness. At any cost.
1. Chapter 1

It was an ordinary day for Philip Pirrip, who had taken on the name Pip at an early age, and his wife Estella Pirrip. Having been married for two years, life had become routine and consisted only of meals, perhaps a stroll through the city, and sleep. Of course, sleeping was hardly a consideration now that they had their infant son to care for. For six weeks, Estella and Pip had not been pulled away from the responsibilites and attention that came with their son, Joseph Pirrip. However, with some heavy persuasion, Pip and Estella left their child in the care of Biddy Gargery and her husband Joe Gargery (who Joseph had been named after). The Gargerys moved back to London upon hearing the news of Estella being close to birthing Joseph, since then they had been residing with Pip and Estella , and only now had been left in charge of the youngest and newest member of the Pirrip family.

"Do you suppose that's he all right, Pip?" Estella asked.

Pip gave a sigh; this was not the first time that Estella had asked this question since they had left their home and he knew it would not be the last.

"Estella, I've nothing but full confidence in Joe and Biddy, and little Pip will be wishing to help as well, I'm certain. Joseph shall be all right until our return." Pip said.

Estella shrugged. "He had been crying when we left, and I' m not certain if Biddy was able to settle him."

"He's calm, I'm sure, Estella. Now, can we not enjoy each other's company? We've barely been alone since Joseph was born."

Estella smiled and linked her arm into Pip's. "Yes, of course, my love. I apologize for my behavior."

Pip gave a light chuckle. "No need for apologies, dear. It is in your nature to worry."

"And I thought I could not for anyone more than I do myself..."

Pip looked at Estella and saw a pain reflecting in her eyes. She was most likely recalling her years of coldness and selfishness. Of course, it had become nothing but a memory now, and was only thought upon during the rarest occasions, and this seemed to be one. Pip certainly sympathized for Estella during these periods of recollection; as he had behaved in a nearly similar manner for an extended period in his life.

Pip saw Estella's eyes brightened again and a small smile came on her face. The memory had been pressed to the back of her mind again.

The two continued their walk through the streets of London in silence, neither able to speak on a subject that didn't concern Joseph in some form or the other. It was Estella who finally broke the silence.

"The sky is clear today. I had been expecting it to rain."

Pip looked up at the sky and observed it. "Yes, there's not been a trace of a cloud. I'm sure that little Pip will be wanting to use his skipping rope by our return."

Suddenly, a thin, beared man walked by the Pirrips; nearly knocking over Estella. Thankfully, she had been able to balance herself quickly.

"Such harshness." Estella muttered.

"Are you all right, dear?" Pip asked.

"Yes, I'm all right. But I've a desire to place that man in iron."

Pip looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the rude gentleman. Infact, the gentleman was looking over his shoulder as well, directly at Pip. Though a good distance from each other, Pip could not help but notice the deep scars and small swelling on the man's face. He had been injured in the past, but Pip certainly had no knowledge of how the gentleman had sustained his injuries. Nonetheless, there was something interesting about the gentleman: Pip had seen him before. Somewhere, in another time and place, they had met. It may have been a brief encounter, or they just might have been aquaintances, but Pip knew his face.

"Pip, are you looking at something?" Estella asked.

Pip shook his head and turned to Estella. "Nothing, love. It's nothing."


	2. Chapter 2

Upon returning home, Estella went off to find Joseph, and Pip sought out Joe. He knew well that he could speak to Estella about possibly knowing the stranger on the streets, but with the stress of being a new mother and the possibility, though extremely vague at the time, that the stranger meant her harm only gave Pip reason to not speak to Estella.

"Hello, Uncle Pip!"

As Pip looked up, he found Joe and Biddy's young son, who had been named after Pip, coming down the stairs.

"Hello now, Pip. Have you seen your Father today?" Pip asked.

The younger Pip nodded. "He's in the forge, Uncle. He's been working hard today."

Pip gave a soft chuckle. He had known Joe for twenty-five-years and always found him to be a hard worker. Not just one day, but every day of every week, month & year, Joe would work hard at his forge.

Stepping outside, Pip went to Joe's forge and found him pumping a bellows towards the fireplace.

"Joe?"

Looking over his shoulder, Joe saw Pip and then turned back to his pumping. "Back early, Pip. A good walk, I take it?"

"Yes, it was." Pip briefly looked to his feet and then looked up. "Joe, I hate to take you from your work. I know you have been working on a new gate for the church, but I must speak to someone."

Setting down the bellows, Joe faced Pip and gestured towards a chair that he had begun to keep in the forge.

"You've always my ears, Pip." Joe said.

When Joe had sat down as well, Pip cleared his throat to speak. "Joe, I saw a man today while walking with Estella."

"A man?" Joe repeated.

"He was rushing by and nearly knocked over Estella. "

Joe's eyes widened. "I hope she's not been hurt, Pip."

"No, she hasn't. Joe, this man that I saw; I have seen him before."

"But you can't remember his name?" Joe asked.

Pip nodded. "Joe, I've seen many faces in my life. So many, that they've all been placed in memory. I've not forgotten one, and I'm certain that I've been acquainted with this stranger."

Sighing, Joe leaned forward slightly. "Pip, ol' chap, you've seen many faces and I've seen very little. I've no 'quaintances outside of the marsh, 'side from Mr. Pocket and Mr. Jaggers. If I could help, I would; but I know not all your 'quaintances, Pip."

Running his hand over his face, Pip nodded his head. "Yes, Joe, I know. I apologize again for troubling you, but I've no greater confidantes than you and Estella. With Joseph still being so small, I couldn't burden Estella with my concern."

"Concern, Pip? What concern?"

Pip turned to Joe and paused for a brief moment. "This stranger that I've spoken of. His stare was cold, Joe. By that look alone, I could tell that he meant us harm."

Joe laid a hand on Pip's shoulder. "Don't think on it, Pip. Go about your business and forget that 'counter. You'll feel better if it's put out of mind."

Pip gave a small smile and nodded. Joe patted his shoulder and returned to his work, while Pip stood up to leave the forge; it didn't take long for him to feel a tingling sensation on the surface of his hand. He looked down and saw a tiny spider crawling over his knuckles; for a moment though, he was fixated on it.

"Is there something else, Pip?" Joe asked.

Pip came out of his trance and looked up at Joe. "It's nothing." He flicked the spider off of his hand. "That is my hope, at least."


	3. Chapter 3

Pip stared at the blank sheet of paper, his quill in hand. He had been like this for all of five minutes, and little bits of ink had begun to drip onto the paper, staining it. Pip didn't mind though, he was too distracted, lost in his thoughts. Was there reason to write this letter? Was he simply acting on a feeling rather than sense? Mr. Jaggers was a busy man, seeing as his occupation was a lawyer and one of the finest in London by Pip's judgement. He couldn't be bothered by nonsense, which was Pip was beginning to believe this all was. Nonsense, and nothing more. Still, the spotting of the spider creeping its way across his knuckles, helped Pip recall a conversation he held with Mr. Jaggers where the latter had called Bentley Drummle, Estella's first husband, a spider.

Drummle was killed, but Pip never knew the exact details. He was told simply that he had treated a horse cruelly and that horse did not take kindly, and did what he thought possible to stop from being abused: He trampled Drummle. So, Pip found it odd when a simple spider had given him the urge to write to Mr. Jaggers, especially since in the back of his mind Pip kept seeing the stranger that he and Estella had encountered.

Finally, after deciding to write the letter to Mr. Jaggers, Pip gave a sigh and set his quill against the paper:

_Dear Mr. Jaggers, _

_It's been fourteen years since we last held each other's company, and you will certainly_

_think it odd to receive this letter. I do wish to inquire about your health and the health of Mr._

_Wemmick, if he is still your employee or acquaintance. My own health is good, and I've married_

_Estella and she, no more than six weeks ago, had given birth to our son, Joseph. Both are in _

_good health and spirits. _

Pip's quill ran dry and he dipped it in the ink. He was again doubting if he should continue to write the letter, but quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Pressing against the quill against the paper, he continued:

_I wish that the cause of my letter was simply to ask about your health. Unfortunately, I've another cause. You will recall Mr. Bentley Drummle, who was my acquaintance, by the means of being one of my companions during my tutoring sessions. If memory serves, you had a fondness for him and often called him "The Spider." He was killed fourteen years ago, and I wish to know, as a lawyer of great reputation, if you are able to recall the days that followed Mr. Drummle's demise. _

_With good wishes, _

_Pip_

After blowing on the ink to help it dry, Pip folded the letter and then sealed it close with sealing wax. The mail coach would be in Kent, not far from the marshes, but if Pip wished that Mr. Jaggers would receive the letter soon, then he would have to leave home in the next hour. He just hoped he was wrong to think that it was truly a matter of urgency.


	4. Chapter 4

In his office, Mr. Jaggers sat behind his desk, looking over the stacks of paper. His latest case was the defense of a man, accused of forging letters from a dead man to gain financial aid through the deceased's elderly parents. While Jaggers did believe the man was innocent, every single letter he wrote would have to be slipped under his magnify glass so that the penmanship would be studied.

"Mr. Jaggers, sir?"

Mr. Jaggers looked up and saw his clerk, Wemmick, standing at the door way with something in his hands.

"Not now, Wemmick. Far too much to do before the week is out." Mr. Jaggers said.

"I understand, sir, but this letter has just arrived."

Upon hearing this, Jaggers sighed and massaged his forehead. "A case for me, no doubt."

Jaggers held out his hand and Wemmick handed the letter over to him. He unfolded the paper carefully and read the letter to himself.

"If I may ask, sir, who has written the letter?"

"You know him well, Wemmick. Mr. Philip Pirrip."

Wemmick smiled. "Ah, Mr. Pip." His smile disappeared when he saw Jaggers was still focused on the letter. "He is well?"

Jaggers nodded and bit his forefinger. "He says that he's married Estella Drummle. They've since had a son."

Wemmick breathed a sigh of relief. "I trust, though, he's not written without reason."

Jaggers continued to bite his forefinger. "He wishes to know the events that followed the death of Bentley Drummle."

"Well, that should no trouble. You are an acquaintance with the late Mr. Drummle's lawyer. I'm sure if you asked him, he'd tell you what he knows of the aftermath of his client's demise."

Jaggers said nothing in response, and Wemmick turned to leave. "I will send for Mr. Harrison-"

"No, Wemmick." Jaggers said suddenly, and Wemmick turned to him. "There's no cause to send for Harrison. Not when he even met Mr. Drummle."

Wemmick's brow furrowed in confusion. "Mr. Jaggers, you told me on the very day of Mr. Drummle's death that his estate would be handled by Mr. Harrison."

Jaggers stood and began to pace the office. He stopped after a moment, and again bit his finger. "If, Mr. Wemmick, I told you that I know a story. A story, which I will not reveal if its fact or a simple fairy tale, that you would not tell to anyone?"

Wemmick nodded and closed the office door. "If you feel it must be told, sir."

"Put the case, Mr. Wemmick, that a man was accused of beating a helpless animal and that said animal, doing what it must to defend itself, trampled its owner. Put the case, that the owner, bruised and bloodied, was on the verge of death but had been able to come to someone. Someone who is well-respected amongst many. Put the case, that this man had nursed the wounded back to health and then realized that he alone was capable of bringing the gentleman back from the brink of death. That the well-respected man took the injured fellow to a hospital and was told that his treatment would take several years if he was to recover fully. Put the case, that the wounded man was married to a lovely woman, and no matter how cruelly he was towards his wife, that she would know nothing of his recovery and be told that he died, simply because he no longer wished to be married to her and thought it better to be dead to her and the world, thinking now to start over with no responsibilities and no marriage."

After finished his story, Jaggers turned to see that a stunned Wemmick was sitting in a nearby chair, lost in his own thoughts.

"I have admitted nothing, Wemmick." Jaggers said.

Wemmick finally looked up. "No matter, sir. Mr. Pip, however, must be informed. His wife is still married to a man that is alive. A man who may very well be near them."

"This is not news that one can write on paper. Though, if you feel you must try." Jaggers picked up a blank piece of paper from the desk and placed it front of Wemmick.

Wemmick stared at the paper and then sighed in defeat. "It's impossible. It's far too personal."

"Then you know what you must do. I cannot leave London, and if I assume correctly, Pip has always had a fondness for you. He did think of you as his confidante."

Wemmick nodded his head and stood. "I'll leave as soon as I am able, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

Wemmick had never been to Kent, let alone its marshland. In fact, he had never traveled outside of London. It was his theory that if one has all the required necessities for survival in their city, then one should be content with remaining there. He also hated leaving his poor wife alone with two children, both under the age of 3, to care for. Nontheless, the news that had to be delivered to Pip in person.

When the coach arrived at the house, Wemmick crawled out and breathed in a mixed aroma of smoke and sausage. Mr. Gargery, who Wemmick had heard about through Pip, was likely working in his forge and it was nearly time for supper. When he reached the door, he knocked on it and was soon greeted by Pip.

"Wemmick." Was all that Pip could manage to say.

"Good evening, Pip." Wemmick removed his hat. "I hope that I'm not disrupting anything."

Pip only smiled and hugged Wemmick; he then invited him inside and took his coat and hat from him.

"Dear, who was at the door?" Estella called from the kitchen.

"It's Mr. Wemmick, Estella."

Estella emerged from the kitchen and walked up to Wemmick and Pip. She curtsied for the visitor, and Wemmick bowed.

"It's wonderful to see you again, Pip, and it seems that both you and your wife are in excellent health. I trust that your child is well?"

Pip nodded. "He is. Now, you must tell me, how is Mrs. Skiffins and The Aged P?"

"Oh, my wife is well. We've a son that we have named William, and a daughter named Amelia. Born on the same day, they were. It was quite the surprise."

"I trust it was. Now, how is the Aged?" Pip asked.

Wemmick frowned. "Oh Pip, the Aged did live for five years more. He suffered with a heart condition and passed on."

"I am sorry to hear that. He was a good man."

"But no longer in pain, Pip. That is what matters."

"Indeed. Well, as happy as I am to see you again, sir, you must tell me what you've came."

Wemmick looked at his feet. "It's a sensitive matter. One that I prefer that we discuss privately."

Pip nodded. "Of course."

Pip led Wemmick to a nearby chair by the fire and Estella left the two friends alone. For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

"Wemmick, whatever it is that you must tell me, I prefer that you do it at this moment."

"I'm sorry, Pip. I'm very sorry." Wemmick said quietly.

"Sorry? What for?"

"It's not the best of news that I bring. In fact, it's the opposite."

"Then you must tell me."

Wemmick looked up at Pip and met his eyes. "It concerns Estella."

"Estella? Is there some sort of legal situation?"

Wemmick shrugged. "To an extent."

Pip leaned back in his chair. "I don't understand."

This was the moment that Wemmick had been dreading. Nonetheless, he could not withhold the truth. Pip had the right to know.

"In your letter to Mr. Jaggers, you questioned him about the death of Bentley Drummle."

"Yes, I did." Pip sighed. "I suppose that he cannot reveal much to me. I was not a relative of Drummle, and hardly an acquaintance."

"No, Pip. He cannot tell you of Mr. Drummle's death. Because there was no death."

Wemmick cringed as he watched the color drain from Pip's face. He was sure if the man hadn't been sitting down, he would have been on the floor.

"No death?" Pip repeated. "That's impossible. Estella had told me herself."

"Then she was misinformed. Bentley Drummle is alive, Pip."

"Then he was who I saw." Pip said to himself.

"Pardon?"

Pip looked up at Wemmick. "While me and Estella took a walk in the city. I saw a man. A man that I knew, but could not place the name. Now, I have."

"Well, perhaps he did not recognize you."

Pip ran his hand over his face and nodded. "So then, how does this concern Estella?"

"Well, since Mr. Drummle was her husband and since he is alive. By law, they are still married and if Mr. Drummle wishes to go to court and take hold of Estella's assets, he very well can."

Pip swallowed. "You mean, I could lose my wife?"

Wemmick nodded and frowned. "Yes, Pip. You could."

"What about my son?"

"Oh, he would remain under your care. Custody would only be granted if Mr. Drummle was his father."

Pip sighed. "That is a small comfort. If any comfort at all."

"Pip, you know I took no pleasure in delivering this news. I am sincerely sorry. Besides, as far as you are concerned, Mr. Drummle had not recognized you or your wife. He might very well leave Kent and be no trouble at all."

"And if he did recognize her?"

Wemmick had no answer for Pip's question and Pip left abruptly. In Wemmick's mind, there was no future for Estella and Pip now. None at all.


End file.
